May The Glee Be Ever In Your Favor
by KurtandBlaineGleek
Summary: Klaine! Glee/Hunger Games crossover. Will Kurt Hummel from District 12 be able to survive the Games and keep the boy from District 2 he's fallen for from dying when there can only be one victor? Rated for violence. Please R&R! ND and Warblers included!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! I know it's been a long time since I posted anything and I apologize for that. I've been busy with other stuff and now I might be more busy because I'm planning on moving across country to Florida. xD I wrote this a week or so ago, can't remember. Wasn't sure if I would post it or not. But yes, this is a Glee/Hunger Games crossover. Now, before you say anything in the reviews, yes, I am aware that it is very much the likeness of the first book. It may seem that way in the beginning because I want it to flow and be as accurate as possible and even though it's obvious who certain Glee charries are in THG, I promise that eventually it will take it's own course. This is a Klaine story and those of you who are familiar with y work will know that I can never kill off our boys so yes, they will be alive at the end. But be prepared for other major character deaths because this is The Hunger Games and we all know what happens there. By the way, did you guys know that Chris Colfer went to the midnight premiere? Awesome right? Yes! Now, on with the first chapter! Hope you enjoy!**

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><p>Two o'clock.<p>

I stand there with my hands repeatedly clenching and unclenching. I'm nervous. I glance forward to see my friend Lauren looking back at me. This is her last year for facing this. She's eighteen. I'm sixteen. She also has her name entered forty-two times this year. And mine? It's entered twenty.

Somewhere behind me at the back is my little brother Christopher. This is his first reaping.

We live in the Seam of District 12 in the country of Panem. We're poor and struggling to survive. Our mother passed years ago and our father is no longer able to work in the mines. I hunt daily, accompanied by Lauren. It's a tedious affair but it keeps us fed. I think about how Lauren and I had just gone hunting that morning.

"Happy Hunger Games!" I'm snapped out of my thoughts by the voice of Emma Pillsbury, escort for the tributes of District 12. Everyone knows she'd do anything to be promoted from our dirty and poor district. "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor." I roll my eyes. She says this every year.

Briefly, my eyes scan the crowd. I can see my father watching, his fists clenched like mine. He's frightened. Chris shouldn't have anything to worry about. This is his first reaping and I forbade him to sign up for tesserae so being twelve, his name is only entered once. If you sign up for tesserae, they give you one year's supply of grain and oil for every tesserae entry. You can do that if you're poor. But it increases your odds of being chosen.

That's what I've done every year since I was old enough to be submitted. Without the tesserae, my name would be entered only five times. They increase the entry with each year you're eligible. Twelve, one time, thirteen, two times, fourteen, three times, etc. It goes all the way to seven times at eighteen, the last eligible year.

I'm not too worried about Chris. He's only entered once. No way his name would be drawn against the approximate thousand other names in that bowl.

"And now District 12, we will select your tributes!" Emma went on. "Ladies first!" It is then that I notice a third person is joining her and the mayor. Sue Sylvester. Out of the two people from District 12 to have ever won the Hunger Games, she's the only one still alive.

My eyes fix on Sue and the bowl in which Emma is reaching to pull out a name at the same time. She unfolds the slip of paper and I turn my attention to her, eyes surpassing Lauren with the other eighteen year olds up front. I hold my breath.

"Santana Lopez!" Emma calls off the paper. I turn my head. I don't know Santana personally but I've seen her in school. She's in my year, daughter of the local medicine man. She doesn't seem frightened at all. She seems determined. She approaches the stage and stands next to Emma. "Do we have any volunteers?" Emma asks.

Volunteers. When a tribute is chosen, another eligible boy or girl may volunteer to take their place as tribute. I wait. No one volunteers to take Santana's place.

"And now for the boys!" I hold my breath again and clench my fists. This is it. I pray that it is not my name that she draws. If she doesn't draw my name, I'm safe for another year. She pulls out a paper and unfolds it. It's not my name.

It's Christopher Hummel.

For a moment I feel like my knees buckle. My eyes flit immediately to my little brother, standing at the back with the other twelve year olds. _How_? I think. His name was only in there once. He starts forward, toward the stage, his shirt untucked in the back. It's a little big on him.

I can't let him do this. I can't let them sacrifice Chris. I run forward. "Chris!" I shout. Peacekeepers stop me from making it to him. My brother turns. "Chris!" I shout again as he looks at me. "I volunteer!" I spit out suddenly. "I volunteer as tribute!"

For a moment everyone stops and stares at me. Chris is shaking his head violently. "No Kurt," he says. I swallow and look up at Emma, meeting her eyes. Sue seems beside herself.

"I like this porcelain one," she says.

"Well," says Emma. "You volunteer to take Christopher's place?" I nod. "And what is your name?" she asks.

"Kurt Hummel," I say. Santana is merely looking at me. Chris breaks down and starts screaming for me not to. I ignore him and make my way on stage. Lauren picks him up and carries him away, kicking and screaming.

Emma beams around at everyone. "Well, we have your tributes District 12. Santana Lopez and Kurt Hummel."

There is no applause. Instead silence passing through the people of District 12. After a moment, they raise their fingers to their lips. It's a silent praise to loved ones we do in District 12.

Santana and I are escorted off the stage, the cameras following our every move. Did I mention that we're being televised?

So here's the deal about the Hunger Games. Ever since the rebellion that ended up in the destruction of District 13, the Capitol has been running these Hunger Games annually. It's mainly a reminder to us all what they're capable of.

Once upon a time, Panem used to be a place known as North America and the wars tore it a part and rebuilding turned it into the Capitol, surrounded by thirteen districts. District 13 was destroyed in the rebellion. That was seventy-four years ago. This year will be the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games are televised so everyone in Panem can see the action. Twenty-four tributes, one boy, one girl from each district between the ages of twelve and eighteen are selected to travel to the Capitol to compete in the Hunger Games. And what do they do? Kill each other off. We're sent into the arena to prove our survival. In the end, only one person will be the victor. The last person standing wins the Hunger Games. As a result, they become very wealthy and their district is treated to money and food.

Over the seventy-three previous Hunger Games, only two people have ever won for District 12. Sue Sylvester is the only one of those victors still alive.

Yes, it's brutal. But that's how life is in Panem. The Capitol runs everything.

Santana and I are pushed along to the Justice Building. They lead me into a room and tell me I have an hour to say good-bye. The room is rather cozy looking with a warm fire and nice little couch. I don't have much time to settle in.

My father Burt and Chris enter the room. I turn to look at them, my mind running on overdrive. My hair is slightly askew, a bit out of place. I've been running my hands through my perfect coif.

"Kurt," my father says, his eyes wide. Chris is sniffling beside him, but I know he's trying to be strong. "Kurt, come back to us. We need you. I need you."

I approach and place both of my hands on my father's shoulders. "Dad, promise me you'll take care of yourself. Promise me you'll take care of Chris," I say. He nods. I worry that he won't be able to handle it. I'm afraid he'll fall apart again, like he did when my mom died.

Chris looks at me, "Promise me you'll live. Promise me you'll come back," he says, head held high. I look at him. "Promise me you'll try your hardest to win."

For a moment, I'm not sure if I can win. The wealthier districts, such as Districts 1, 2, and 4, have the means of preparing their children, even though you're not supposed to. But those kids live the high life. The only thing I have to go on, aside from my hunting skills, is what I've seen when watching the Games every year.

"For you, I will try to win. I will give it my all Chris," I said finally. I'm able to hug them both. "I love you guys." The most they're allowed to do is repeat the endearment to me before the Peacekeepers are escorting them from the room.

I'm staring into the fire when Lauren walks in. She merely stands and looks at me for several moments.

"I'm going to fail," I say quietly. Lauren approaches and places a hand on my shoulder.

"You are not going to fail Kurt," she says. "You're excellent with a bow." I look at her.

"Not as good as my mother was." My mother was a damn good hunter, especially for a woman. She had an unfortunate encounter once with a Tracker Jacker nest. Tracker Jackers. They are one of the Capitol's muttations. They're wasps. But their stings fill your body with venom and drive you mad, if they don't kill you. It's said the stings grow to the size of a plum. My mother encountered a massive attack. After the wars, the Capitol just left them. They're all over the place. She didn't stand a chance.

The bad thing is if you upset or annoy a Tracker Jacker, they'll track you down. That's why they call them Tracker Jackers.

"Come on Kurt," Lauren says. "You're stronger than that. You have your hunting skills and your wits. You're a good observer and you don't take smack from anybody," she goes on. "You can do this. You can win this."

I stare at her for a long time. "What if there are no trees? What if the arena is pure desert sands or mountain terrain?" I ask. She furrows her brow in thought.

The thing about the Hunger Games, the arena the tributes have is different every year. One time they had open plains with practically nowhere to hide. The Games were short-lived that year.

"I highly doubt there'll be desert. They don't want a short battle again," she says. She's right. They wouldn't do that again. "They won't run dry on water either."

I remembered the year there was no water supply in the arena. Half the tributes were done in, in a matter of days from lack of water and dehydration. The Gamemakers won't do that again because the point is for tributes to kill each other, not all die of natural causes.

"You'll be fine," she goes on. "Kurt, you can work with anything they throw at you." She's right. I can probably make do with whatever they send my way.

A Peacekeeper enters then telling Lauren her time is up. I briefly hug her and turn away to look at the fire. I can do nothing but wonder what lay ahead. The hour is nearly up and I'm sure that Lauren has been my last visitor.

I'm wrong.

A moment later, the door opens again. I turn my head and look. It's Trent Nixon, the mayor's son. I furrow my brow.

"Hi Kurt," he says quietly.

"What are you doing here Trent?" I ask. My voice is full of surprise. Trent and I don't know each other that well, though we are of the same year. He's not snobbish by any means, even though he's the mayor's son. I'd seen him once that morning, when Lauren and I delivered strawberries for the mayor. Trent took them.

He holds out a small gold pin. It's a Mockingjay, a creature that is a descendent of one of the Capitol's mutts known as the Jabberjay. The Jabberjay was created so the Capitol could learn what the rebels were thinking. They were birds that recorded, recognized, and mimicked human speech. But when the rebels figured this out, they started sending lies. The Capitol disbanded Jabberjays but didn't count on them learning to fend for themselves. They mated with mockingbirds and as a result, Mockingjays were born. They make such beautiful music. He pins it to my shirt. "I thought you could use this as your token," he says looking at me.

A token. Each tribute is allowed to have a token of their district. Trent is very thoughtful for giving this to me.

"Thank you," I say, not sure what else to say to him. He offers me a smile and gives his head a short nod.

That's all he has time for. My hour is up. The Peacekeepers collect Trent and lead him from the room and than they come back for me.

The next few moments are like a blur. Cameras are following Santana and I as Emma and Sue walk us with the Peacekeepers to the car that will take us to the train station. I've never been on a train or in a car. We walk everywhere in the Seam. People are forbidden to travel between districts unless for business of some sort and that's very rare.

Even then, they don't take this kind of train. The one we board is headed for the Capitol and it goes 250 miles per hour. We'll be there in less than a day. Emma shows me to my room. It's luxury in every manor.

The bed looks plush and comfortable. I have my own bathroom, a fact I secretly squeal about. There are clothes waiting for me. Emma tells me to get cleaned up and meet her and Sue in the dining car for dinner in an hour.

An hour.

How can anyone expect me to clean in that time? There is a shower in the bathroom. I've never had a shower before. I pull out a simple red cardigan and some skinny jeans, shower quickly and fix my perfectly coifed hair before dressing in the clothes and heading out of the room.

When I reach the dining car, Santana, Emma, and Sue are already there. The meal is a lavish feast, soup, salad, followed by a delicate chicken smothered in gravy over white grains and vegetables. There's even a cake for dessert. I've never had so much food in my life and I feel nauseous.

Santana is dipping a roll in creamy brown stuff. "It's called hot chocolate," she says. "It's good."

I look at my own mug, preferring it to the dark liquid that must be what they call coffee. I sip the hot chocolate. It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. I down the cup. Though I'm not sure why Santana is dipping a roll in it. I wrinkle my nose at her.

She throws me a glare. "Got a problem pale boy?" she says harshly. I shake my head.

My stomach churns. I'm not used to such a delicate luxury. Santana looks a little green. She's not really used to it either.

"Thank the Capitol you two have proper eating manners," Emma says. I stare at her. Santana and I are both lucky to know some etiquette. My mother taught me some manners when I was younger. "Last year's tributes scarfed everything down by hand. You'd think they'd never eaten before."

This does not sit well with me. Just to annoy her, I clean the rest of my plate with my fingers, licking them off, though I wouldn't normally do something like this. Santana takes it a step further. She picks up her plate and licks it clean. Emma looks horrified.

Mission accomplished.

"All right, what can you two do?" says Sue. We look at her. She doesn't appear like she particularly likes either of us. But she's meant to mentor. Clearly, she doesn't care to bother.

"Kurt can hunt. He's good with a bow. He's a great shot. Rarely misses a target," Santana says. I stare at her in amazement. How the hell does she know that? We've never spoken to each other.

Sue looks at me. "That true Porcelain?" she snips. I slowly nod my head but shrug.

"I'm decent," I say. Santana scoffs.

"Decent is an understatement."

I look at her. "Well, you're pretty good punching people out with your hands," I say. She mimics the shrug I gave Sue. "You took Karofsky out with one punch once," I go on. She shrugs again.

"He was distracted by the razor blades in my hair," she says. Sue and Emma both stare at her.

"You have razor blades in your hair?" Emma asks. Santana scoffs.

"Yeah." I look at her, wondering if she's really telling the truth or not. I've heard people say that about her before, that she has razor blades in her hair. But no one's ever seen them so there's no proof that it's true.

Sue cuts into everyone's thoughts. "Well, I think I may finally have found some tributes who have potential." She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, sipping from a bottle of some strange liquid. "Fine, I'll give up enough of my precious time if you two make a success out of District 12."

I get the sense that she hasn't bothered with tributes in the past. Maybe that's why our district never wins.

After dinner we enter a sort of living room type place on the train and settle down to watch the recap of the reapings. They go in order.

No one stands out to me really. A blond girl and very tall giant boy from District 1, the girl makes me scowl. She looks like a rich bitch snob. Not surprised. It's District 1. The boy just looks clueless. There's a squash-faced girl from District 5. I wonder if there's something mentally wrong with her. It's cruel to make someone like that go into the Hunger Games. No one volunteers to take her place and I feel sort of bad. A twelve year old is actually chosen for District 11, a dark-skinned girl and I feel bad for her too. But than an older girl who looks like her volunteers to take her place. She turns out to be the girl's sister. She's done what I did. And then they close with our reaping. Showing me volunteering to take my brother's place and Chris being carried away crying.

But there is one tribute that caught my eye strongly. The boy from District 2, I know I shouldn't care because that's another snobby rich district. But he didn't look snobbish. He was rather short for a boy. His hair is in curls, plastered to his head by something, maybe grease of some kind. I'm not sure what. I can't get an absolutely good look at him, but he is gorgeous and after that, I don't think I will able to get him out of my mind.

"See something you like Hummel?" Santana asks me some moments after the reaping coverage ends. She is smirking at me.

"I…what?" She snickers. But I quickly recover, remembering that I hadn't missed the expression on her face when she saw the girl from District 8. "I could ask the same thing. Blonds? Didn't think they were you Santana." She scowls.

Emma claps her hands, switching off the television. "Sleep. We will be at the Capitol tomorrow morning," she says.

Santana and I stand up. We throw glares at each other and walk to our rooms. I can hear Emma and Sue muttering that if we keep jumping down each other's throats, District 12 won't last five minutes into the Games.

As I fall asleep, I can't help but think that they are right.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, what did you guys think? Definitely a bit AU because we all know Kurt doesn't have a little brother. xD But it fit with the premise. And I tried and tried to find ways to fit someone other than Santana in for the female District 12 tribute so I could put her somewhere else, but no one worked as well as she did. Please, please review and let me know what you think! Since I wrote this like a week ago or maybe a little more, I'm planning on writing the second chapter now and then if I'm feeling up to it, I will update at least one other story! Reviews make me smile and keep me writing. And again, yes, I know it's quite the likeness to the actual THG book but I promise in the future it will go differently! Happy reading and Happy Hunger Games!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay! I have chapter two for you! I'm going to try and do as much writing as I can but between preparing to move across the country and other obligations I don't know how much that might be. I am aware that this chapter is a little shorter than I'm used to writing but this was just how the flow seemed to go and I figured if I added in the training it would make the chapter too long. So next chapter will be the training! And I'm sorry that Blaine has made such little appearance so far in the story but he will definitely come into play more next chapter so no worries! Enjoy! I hope this is to your liking! And I promise that it will eventually go in its own direction. I'm aware it's still following the book pretty well but I have to do what I feel is best for the story. And it will be different of course because Kurt is falling for a Career. Maybe there will be some heroism. Oh, who knows? We'll all see how it comes out later yeah? Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or The Hunger Games but both are the most awesomest things I've gotten involved with since Harry Potter!**

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><p>We arrive at the Capitol the next morning, just as Emma has said. It really is magnificent. As much as I really hate the Capitol for making us go through this, I can't take my eyes off its glimmering exterior. Why, I wonder, did the Capitol look so deafeningly fabulous and yet back home in District 12, the world looks as poor as most of us are? Stupid Panem government! Stupid Capitol. This all I can think as, I take my position at the train window and proceed to wave and smile at the residents.<p>

It takes all my acting skills not to cringe at the sight of these people. Dyed skin, odd colored hair, overly bright clothes, glitter, sparkles, and very heavy make-up. I wonder how they can possibly think any of this is good fashion.

I glance over at Santana who's having a tougher time smiling and waving. Being friendly is not her forte. But I know that she's thinking the same thing about their manner of dress.

All too soon, I find myself being shoved into a building. It's the remake center. The remake center, what a name I think.

Santana and I are shipped in too different directions. The next thing I know I'm being stripped by two women and a man. I'm not pleased at this sudden invasion of my personal privacy. But they don't even flinch when they lay their eyes on my pale skin.

Shoving me roughly in a bath the man, whose name is Will, starts scrubbing away at my skin with a rough sponge. I don't know what's on the sponge but it stings when it touches my skin. I can see the pale flesh begin to glimmer like polished porcelain under the places he's already scrubbed.

It seems like an eternity before the three of them pull me out of the bath and dress me in a thin robe. One of the women, named April is now primping away at my nails, making the cuticles nice and neat. The other woman, Shelby is layering my face and skin in oils and creams. For some reason, this does not bother me. I care about my skin.

The three of them are chatting between each other, excitedly placing the bets on what the arena will look like this year. Why they hell is this such a damn exciting event? I think about snapping at them but before I get the chance, a tall thin woman with long straight blonde hair enters the room. She looks the most normal, only decorated with a strip of gold eye shadow and a glint of glitter enhancing her lids.

"Hello Kurt," she says kindly. My prep-team, step back in within seconds they've chattered their ways out of the room. "I'm Holly, your stylist."

I decide I like her right away. She smiles softly at me. "Hello," I reply with a nod of my head.

She unzips the canvas bag that she has been carrying. Inside is what appears to be a skintight leather jumpsuit that is the color of burned coal. A closer look tells me that it is actually part gray and part black. The color runs gray from the bottom and slowly blends itself into black as it reaches the top.

I stand there and look at it for several moments, rather surprised. Usually, the District 12 tributes are always dressed as miners because we're the mining district. "Are you new?" I wonder aloud.

She smiles softly and nods her head. "I specifically asked for District 12," she says. "Now, let's get you into this."

I slip the robe back off and she helps me into the suit. It fits snuggly, obviously enhancing my tall slim frame. You can make out every aspect of my figure, as it's evenly defined. I'm well aware that my most prominent features are my hips and my ass. Well, that should provide something to be desired.

"Yes," she says, smiling softly as she finishes zipping me into the suit. "You'll be eye candy in this. Women will line up to be your sponsor if only to see your figure so defined again." I blush and she laughs.

"Um…am I meant to look sexually appealing?" I ask. She smiles.

"If you get the eyes of the other tributes on you, glaring or not, it may give them something else to think about. If they remember your figure, it can likely distract them in the arena. They can falter with an attempt at murder and you can get the cut in clean," she says. I'm impressed. "Just ask Holly. I know how to teach about sex."

Well, she seems to know quite a bit about being sexy and stuff. The idea makes me blush again.

"Now," she says, winking at me. "Please close your eyes handsome." I'm probably beet red by now but I don't much care. She knows what she's doing so much more than the previous stylists for District 12.

The next thing I know, she's brushing a powder all over my face and glossing over it with oil, my guess is to make it shine. Or maybe it's supposed to represent lighter fluid.

She works quickly but carefully. "Okay, open your eyes," she says. I do as I'm told and find she has moved me so that I am standing in front of a mirror. I gasp.

My whole face is covered in a glossed over black power. It's like I am a human coal, halfway through burning. And I finally get the effect that she's going for.

"Astounding!" I manage to say. She laughs and has me sit down as she sets to work coifing my hair perfectly. Upon my head, she places what feels like a heavy iron crown. I can see that she is holding something in her hand. "What's that?" I ask her.

She smiles at me again. "This will put the finishing touch on the costume. But I'm not going to add the effect until just before your chariot joins the procession."

I am curious. I have no idea what she is planning on doing but I don't have time to ask questions. She's leading me out of the room and down the hall to an elevator. We meet with Santana and her stylist David Martinez there. She's dressed exactly as I am.

"I guess we're going to be burning coals or something," she says. I nod my head and the four of us enter the elevator.

We ride down in silence and when the doors open, I see that the other tributes and stylists, mentors and escorts are already gathered there. We are the last to arrive. Sue and Emma are waiting for us.

"Well done Holly Hobby," Sue says, staring at me. She looks like she's attempting a smile but it comes as more of a sneer. "Listen up porcelain and tweedle fake boobs," she says. Santana scowls. "Wave, smile, look pretty, act in love for all I care, whatever makes you appear happy and desirable." Then she walks off.

"What the hell?" Santana scoffs. I shrug. "Come on Hummel, we better get this shit over with," she says.

We are lead by Emma, Holly, and David over to our chariot where we climb aboard. I take the time to look around the room.

My eyes immediately fall on that curly-haired boy from District 2. He and his partner are in all black but that's all I can tell. District 2 is Masonry. I don't have much time to stare at this gorgeous boy – something that I try not to remind myself of, as he's a tribute and way out of my league – for there's a smirky man leaning over the side of the chariot. His face looks like that of a meercat. Holly catches me looking as she's fixing the iron crown on my head.

"That's Sebastian Smythe," she says with a tone of disgust. "He's a sleaze and male tribute stylist of District 2." Her eyes find the curly-haired boy. "He's a looker, isn't he?" she asks me, a knowing smile on her face.

I don't even think to try and lead her off what I'm thinking. "Who is he?" I ask.

"His name is Blaine Anderson. He's nothing at all like your typical Career," she replies. I look at her, wondering what she could mean and she seems sort of sad. "Rumor is that he wouldn't hurt a fly. But maybe that's just a cover-up. Obviously, Sebastian's into him," she says. "It's forbidden to have relationships with tributes but that man has never followed anyone's rules but his own." I can hear the disapproval in her voice.

I want to ask more about Blaine but just than, the doors open and I can see the people cheering and waiting for the long ride of the chariots down to the circle in from of the Training Center, where we tributes will be staying until we are sent into the arena.

The chariot procession is done by district. Which means that District 1 is the first out of the doors. I can see that the tall boy and the blonde girl are decked out in costumes laden with jewels. Figures, it is the luxury district.

They are followed of course by District 2. I can sort of see Blaine. He's waving enthusiastically. The girl by his side must be about half his height. She's a tiny thing. I felt sort of sorry for her.

I was trying not to pay much attention to the other tributes. I'll probably learn more about them during the next few days or whatever. But these kids are out to kill me and I'm meant to kill them. I know there's not much point on really becoming friendly. Unless I'm meant to strive for allies, but who wants to ally with District 12? It's likely we'll be out on day one. Usually are.

So when I am distracted again by the tributes of District 4, I am surprised to find that the boy from District 4 seems to be in a wheelchair. What the hell is the government thinking allowing a handicapped kid to actually partake in the games? I barely notice how little the District 4 tributes are dressed. The idea of a kid who can't even walking being forced into this makes me sick to my stomach.

I tear my eyes away and stare firmly ahead, not altering my expression until I find that District 10 has just pulled out and District 11 is next. I just barely make out the dark skinned girl who volunteered to take her sister's place and a tall boy with a Mohawk. It looks like a rat on his head or something.

And then Holly's at my side. "Remember, smile and wave. You want to make a lasting impression," she says to us both. And then she's pressing the button on the thing I'd seen in her hands.

Sudden warmth surrounds my head and I realize that a flame has erupted from the iron crown. District 11 pulls away from us and then I feel our chariot start on its way.

The moment we pass through the doors, Santana and I waving and smiling though I have never felt less like acting happy, all eyes are on us. I can hear the cheers and applause rise from the stands. Out of the corner of my eye, I can make out my own face on the screen. Sure enough, there is a fiery blaze atop my head. Santana and I are a spectacle if there ever was one. It's a first.

District 12 has made its mark for the first time.

Our chariot pulls to a stop in front of where President Figgins sits. He stands and clears his throat, glancing fervently at Santana and I. Clearly he is just as impressed.

"Welcome tributes to the 74th annual Hunger Games! Let's give all our tributes a round of applause!" he says. After giving the moment for the applause and cheers, he goes into the same speech he makes every year. I tune him out. I find his strong accent is even more annoying in person than it is on the TV. "Good luck tributes and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor," he finishes.

And then it's over. We are being pulled on into another hall and out of sight of the spectators. The flames on our iron crowns go out and we find Holly, David, Sue, and Emma rushing over to us. Holly, David, and Emma are all smiling broadly. Sue looks pleased but doesn't smile.

"Good job porcelain and razor head," she says. "You were the highlight of the show. That's a step in the right direction. Keep it up and we may be getting a good deal of sponsors for you yet," she says and walks off. For a mentor, she wasn't really mentoring.

Emma, Holly, and David shepherd us into the glass elevators of the tower. We ride all the way up to the penthouse at the top. Each district has its own floor. Because we're twelve, we get the very top.

As soon as we step off the elevator my eyes widen. The whole apartment is luxuriously decorated, just as the train had been. There is a boy standing beside the dining table. He looks somewhat familiar to me.

Dinner has been laid out and Holly and David show us to our rooms, with Holly following me in to help me out of the costume.

Soon, we are all seated at the table. Sue has seemingly come out of nowhere to join us. I don't remember seeing her even get into one of the elevators. But I hardly care right then. I have just realized how famished I actually am.

I eat quickly but as politely as possible. It doesn't seem to please Emma. She's staring at me with her big eyes wide in surprise. I blush and knock over a bowl of gravy with my hand.

The boy that was standing at the table goes to pick it up and clean the mess. "Oh," I say. "Thanks but that's really not necessary." He stares at me with a slight fear. It is Emma that replies.

"He's an Avox Kurt," she says. I look at her, confused. "He can't speak. The Capitol has cut out his tongue," she goes on. I stare at her in horror and Santana looks as though she finds this to be very interesting. "Let him clean it. It's his job."

Before I can ask about what that means, Sue snipes in. "He's broken the law so he's being punished. He'll be this way for the rest of eternity porcelain," she says, inspecting the piece of chicken on her fork. "Now, tomorrow you begin your three day training regimen. Do _not_ let the other tributes know right off the back what you're capable of. Save that for the afternoon of the third day, during your private session with the Gamemakers." I look at her for a moment.

Sue sets the piece of chicken down, takes a swig from that unfamiliar stuff she's been carrying around and stands. "I mean it porcelain. You don't want your enemies to know what you can do until you're in the arena. That way, you'll have an advantage as to them not knowing what to expect from you." She walks out of the dining room.

I look over at Santana, who shrugs. "I don't want those punks knowing me anyway," she says, pushing her plate away and sweeping from the room herself.

I stare at my own plate for a good long time, thinking hard about what Sue had said. She had a point. If they didn't know what you could do, they couldn't really guard against it. The question was though, could I really find the heart to off these guys with an arrow? I don't really think I can.

Especially not Blaine Anderson from District 2. I don't admit aloud, but I'm feeling like I'm already falling for this boy and that scares me. I've rarely seen him and haven't officially met him.

Damn you Blaine Anderson.

Not able to handle the thoughts swirling around in my head anymore, I stand up from the table. "I'm going to bed," I say and turn and walk out of the room.

In my room I don't bother to change into pajamas. I merely slip beneath the sheets in my clothes and stare up at the ceiling. Well, this was certainly going to be a very long Hunger Games.

May the odds be ever in my favor. Yeah, I need all the help I can get.

Bring on the sponsors.

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><p><strong>AN: So there we have it! Reviews make me smile guys! What did you think? What did you think of Holly's costume idea? Good? Bad? Let me know! Also, would you like to see some of the chapters written from Blaine's POV? That way we'll get more Blaine when ****he and Kurt aren't together. Or I can like do the switch perspective thing so we get both perspectives in each chapter. My point is that this is supposed to be a Klaine story and I realize if the whole thing is from Kurt's perspective, there will be very little Blaine at some points as even falling in love, they won't always be together, especially in the arena. So let me know which you think works best and I'll do my best to do that for you! Anyway, if you review, at least five, maybe I'll be able to get the training chapter up faster. At this point, I don't know when it or any of my other stories will be updated next due to my hectic life. But if I get at least five reviews for this story after this chapter, I promise I'll give you another chapter to play with! Happy reading! May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!**


	3. Author's Note

**Hello guys! I am so so sorry to everyone who may have been following this story. I have decided to discontinue this version as it had been so incredibly long.**

**However, I am pleased to announce that over the last few days, I have been working on a revamp and complete rewrite of this fic. I'm almost done with it. I'm writing the second to last chapter now. The first chapter has been posted today over at AO3. Archive Of Our Own. You can find it under the same title, May The Glee Be Ever In Your Favor. My pen name there is dreamcatcher/darcangell23 if that helps.**

**So please join me there as at the moment I am not able to write for ff. I don't have a computer currently. But I hope you find me and still enjoy the fic even with the changes I made. At least I hadn't gotten that far into it yet.**

**As always, happy reading!**


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